Conroy planted a laser tracker at the edge of the trees to enable a drone or missile to track on the area.
The second part of their mission was already a success. Without expecting to, the SEALs found Robert E. Lee’s Army. Now it was time to proceed with the first part of the mission, to capture Bradley.
Chapter 72
At 9 a.m. on July 8, Phillip Bradley sat in the waiting room outside of Jefferson Davis’ office in Richmond. Stephen Mallory, the Secretary of the Confederate Navy, had been with Davis for 45 minutes. Both men had been briefed by General Beauregard about this mysterious naval officer. They had also been given an extensive report of the huge explosion near Beauregard’s headquarters.
Bradley hated cooling his heels, but he didn’t have much control over the situation. At least the waiting room was comfortable. A large awning outside the window blocked the direct rays of the easterly morning sun. The temperature was in the high 70s, and the humidity wasn’t oppressive. He sat on a comfortable leather chair looking at his notes. The cruise missile attack on the weapons camp changed Bradley’s narrative, to say the least.
Beauregard suspected, a suspicion he shared with Davis and Mallory, that Bradley may have lured the General to the camp only to have him killed by the rocket fired from the ship. Had it not been for his insistence on lunch at his headquarters, Beauregard would have been blown to bits. Bradley could have jumped behind a rock at the last moment, Beauregard speculated.
Finally, Bradley was escorted into Jefferson Davis’ office, although not as the conquering hero that he had hoped to be.
Davis and Mallory greeted Bradley and shook his hand. Missing was the typical smile when a person meets another for the first time. Davis gestured toward a chair, and Bradley sat.
“General Beauregard told us about your interesting story in some detail,” said Davis. Bradley imagined Beauregard telling them that this nut job thinks he’s from the twenty-first century.
“Clearly, Commander,” said Davis, “the story as recounted to us by General Beauregard is a strange tale indeed. Because we only heard it second hand, please give us your summary of who you are and how you got here.”
Bradley summarized of the strange days of the USS California and her travel through time. “Gentlemen, I realize that the story sounds unbelievable. Not one person on my ship would disagree with that. But we found evidence beyond a doubt to convince us that we had traveled, somehow, through time.”
Bradley then told them that Captain Patterson, along with other officers from the California, had already met with Lincoln and Navy Secretary Wells. He did not mention the Operation Gray Ships deception.
“Because we have the hindsight, or better stated, the foresight of history, we know that a major battle will take place at Manassas, Virginia on the 21st of this month, near Bull Run Creek. Three months ago we were able to predict the attack on Fort Sumter to the minute. The Battle of Manassas, or the Battle of Bull Run as it’s known in the North, will happen, gentlemen, less than two weeks from today.”
Davis and Mallory were well aware of the upcoming battle, but were surprised that this man knew the exact day.
“Tell us, Commander, from your knowledge of history,” said Davis, “how did the battle go?”
“What was expected to be a Union victory turned out to be a triumph for the South. Both sides were inexperienced, but the Confederacy won the day, primarily by destroying Union artillery.”
“And how does this involve you, Sir?” Davis asked Bradley.
“History will change, Mr. President, because of the involvement of a Gray Ship, the USS California. The gigantic explosion that destroyed the weapons I had offered to General Beauregard was caused by a weapon known as a Tomahawk Cruise Missile. I believe the General told you about its destructive force. At the Battle of Manassas, that weapon and many more like it will be used against the Confederacy, or at least that is the Union’s plan. But I have put into motion an alternative plan.”
“Please give us the details of your alternative, Commander,” said Mallory.
“I have a colleague on the ship, another man of the South, who is in charge of all of the major weapons. He knows how to disable them, and will do so before July 21st. Manassas will occur with no Gray Ship assistance.”
“So history will unfold as it has been written,” said Davis, his skepticism starting to wane.
“More than that, Sir,” said Bradley. “I have studied the Battle of Manassas in great detail. I can advise all of the Generals involved just what the Union maneuvers will be. The Southern victory will become a smashing triumph.”
Mr. Secretary,” said Davis, “see to it that this man is sworn in as a Confederate naval officer with the rank of Captain.”
“Yes, Sir,” said Mallory. But can we trust this man? Mallory wondered.
I hope Chief Ray is being cautious, Bradley thought.
Chapter 73
Near Bali, in the Dutch East Indies, Malcolm Holmes, an English wildlife artist, painted his favorite subject, the monarch butterfly. He drew a sketch first, making sure to capture the beautiful coloration of the butterfly’s wings. It was tricky, of course, because the wings were flapping. Holmes noticed a cloud of pollen as the butterfly’s wings disturbed the air. He made a note on his sketch to make sure to put the pollen cloud into the painting.
On July 9, 1861, off the Northwest coast of Africa, a zone of low atmospheric pressure formed. At the same time a light wind developed in the upper atmosphere. The combination of low pressure near the surface of the ocean and the upper atmospheric wind resulted in a tropical depression, which would soon become a tropical storm.
The storm began its journey toward the East Coast of the United States.
On the morning of July 12, 1861, Lt. Kathy Cooney, the California’s meteorologist, asked to speak to the Captain. Wind driven rain pelted the windows on the bridge, and the howling of gusts sounded throughout the ship. The sea was turning rough, with white capped waves growing to six feet. Cooney had two observations, neither of which was good. The cloud formations the night before and at sunrise foretold a large weather front heading toward the California from the Southwest. What really concerned her was that both of the ship’s barometers, the instruments that measure atmospheric pressure, were dropping fast. Like rocks.
“Captain, it’s time to duck for cover,” said Cooney.
Lt. Wayne Bellamy, the ship’s Navigator, was on the Bridge. “We’re not far from Baltimore Harbor, Captain,” said Bellamy. “ETA one hour if we can maintain 20 knots.”
“Make for Baltimore, Lieutenant,” said the Captain.
“Recommend you come to course 098 and maintain a speed of 20 knots,” Bellamy said to the OOD.
The OOD then called for the boatswain’s mate of the watch to sound his pipe over the PA system. “This is the Officer of the Deck. All hands prepare for heavy weather. Stay off weather decks unless absolutely necessary.”
Ashley called Nick Wartella, the Engineering Officer. “Nick, we need to do a fast costume change.”
Wartella called Jeff DeLouker and Nancy Forsyth, the “costume designers. “I’ve put out the call to the Gray Ship Gang,” said DeLouker. “We’ve drilled for this and everyone knows where they have to be. I’m going down now to supervise.”
“Be careful, Jeff,” said Wartella.
The Gray Ship Gang heavy weather drill called for each team to report to their assigned places. The California cruised under the name of USS New York that day, and she would soon be the California again. The nameplate USS New York was removed and the two large boards with the ship’s number were to be taken down. The large fore and aft structures that were designed to look like gun turrets were trickier. Forsyth had designed them so that the walls could be folded in on one another like the sides of a box. The long water pipes that were made to look like guns were removed and lashed to the deck. After the gang folded down the walls of the wood structures, they draped heavy chains across each resulting pile of wood and secured it to the deck. During drills, the entire operation could be accomplished in less than 20 minutes. But this was not a drill, and the winds were gale force, with a sustained blow of 40 mph gusting to 60 mph.